


Reformed: Sauron’s Quest to Restore Order to Earth

by GilcuruLend



Category: Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha | Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle Poems, Fighting, Fusion, Politics, Taking Over the World, Villain Protagonist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilcuruLend/pseuds/GilcuruLend
Summary: One Jewel Seed goes missing during the Jewel Seed Incident. An ancient spirit, long powerless, happens upon it and takes it as an object of incredible power. Sauron, long defeated, rises once more in Japan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Sauron has a lot of names. If you don't recognize a name it's probably Sauron. This is a one shot for now but may be continued.

Around a blue gem, darkness gathers. The Jewel glows, and the darkness whirls around it, faster and faster. It coalesces into a man, tall and fair, distinctly powerful: The Lord of Gifts Annatar, the Betrayer, The Dark Lord Zigûr, the Shadow, the cruel, the abhorred, the Maia Sauron.

He steps out of the shadows, and into the sun. He takes hold of the strange jewel full of power, and keeps it close. He breathes in deeply the cold Eastern wind. He is alone, but civilization is nearby. He can smell the exhaust from their craft. The Maia marches to the nearby city, and finds a thing of wonder.

Metal buildings, stretching high into the sky as far as the Eye can see. Other metal contraptions travel at great speeds, rumbling across the streets. Progress has not stopped since he was… hurt… he muses. Even without his guidance humanity moved along, broken and fractured but not stagnant as the Maiar and Elves.

It matters not. Soon he will restore order to Arda; they will be united under him, no more to fight amongst themselves. He marches into the city, deftly hiding himself as a foreigner, eager to learn the ways of their people.

Days pass. He learns the truth of the modern day. Grand weapons have been forged, almost on par with some of the Maiar. He does some forging himself: making the jewel into a brooch, kept on hand to draw power from in his weakened state.

The people of this modern world are weak, as expected. The poor and destitute are always easy victims for his cults, but now even those with jobs are desperate for another way.

Those who live say after day of stressful work, not getting a break. Sacrificing personal life for efficiency in the workplace. The artisan disapproves; they are already losing population. This society would sacrifice the long term for short term gain. Truly, the reason why a Maia needs to be in charge: to protect them from themselves, those shortsighted humans.

They are easy pickings for his cult. They know nothing of Morgoth, of his true ways, and are not as resistant to corruption as the Numenoreans were. A simple display of magic and they all but beg to serve him. Soon, he has dozens of followers, ready to do as he, Amandiltar, commands in exchange for glory. A small force, but it will only grow before he must strike.

The Maia of the Forge spends time researching the new technology on this Earth. Electricity! He never expected it to be worth much. But it is in fact the key to so many problems, the current of progress. He studies and he gathers power. He lives in a commandeered house, large enough to host meetings of his faithful, and inducts each one into servitude.

Weeks pass. The Maia grows in strength, and his cult grows in numbers and power, expanding to other cities. The Dark Lord sends agents to take position in the government, under his new party Durbatulûk. Those who would be the leaders against him have been killed, forcing emergency elections across the country. Others, already politicians, he keeps in place, to sabotage his enemies' efforts, after he has stricken. The smith learns and forges the new crafts of this world, awesome weapons made greater and more awful under his power.

He surveys this city of his domain, finding useless structures and planning how to replace them. Once he has been 'elected' leader of this city, he will uplift it to new heights and efficiency. The single housing shall be replaced with multi-floor apartments, the businesses united, and these parks will be replaced with industry.

The Lord of Arda surveys one now, a pathetic green thing, when he spots an adolescent playing inside. He would normally ignore the irrelevant things, but this one seems to be controlling some sort of rose sphere which is hitting a can in the air.

He has not seen technology capable of doing anything like this. A simple demonstration, but an agile flying object easily controlled, without even visible propulsion? That is far beyond what the men of this Earth have done.

"Little man. How is it you control that rose sphere in the air?"

She flinches, as if struck, and the sphere disappears. "W-what?"

"What was that rosy orb you were commanding?"

"I wasn't doing anything." She starts to back away, towards a bench that has a book bag and necklace. He lets her reach it; let her feel safe.

"I never said you weren't. Now, do not lie. You should not be deceiving." She still seems wary. He looks around-the park is empty. If needs must, he can kidnap her and force her to tell him.

She puts on the necklace and grabs hold of it tightly. It likely is some sort of-wait. He can see magic in it.

"I clearly saw what you were doing. What sort of device did you use? Does it relate to that necklace?" She flinches when he says necklace. Pubescent men are so bad at lying.

"Who are you?" she asks vigorously, clearly unafraid. The fool.

"I apologize for the lack of introductions. I am Amandiltar. Who are you?" Giving his name should be of no consequence, and incite trust. As a child she likely won't even remember it.

"I'm Takamachi Nanoha. I was just playing in the park when you came up to me. What do you want?"

"I only wish to know what you were doing. I was curious, you see. That pink spheroid is unlike anything I have seen."

"I can't tell you."

"Whyever not?"

"It's a secret."

"I shan't tell anyone else, believe me."

"No!"

"Very well." Such a stubborn fool. He'll have the answer out of her soon enough, anyways. Kids go missing all the time, after all. The Dark Lord strides towards the girl, and prepares a fist to knock her out in one blow, hitting just the right way to cause little lasting harm.

She dodges. In a flash of light, her clothes change to a white and pink dress, and she holds a pink staff. He sees the magic flow through her, emerging and clashing with the area around her. This is clearly a warrior, disguised as a child. A cunning disguise, but it proved to be of no use. He unsheathes his sword.

She sends pink blasts his way, all to be stopped.  
He deftly bends to evade, rends with his blade, defends to corrade.  
The pink warrior flies into the air, only to be chopped.  
She lies on the grass, to be given no aid.  
She stands up and forms a circular shield.  
He strikes it once, twice, thrice.  
She charges a buster, only to find him concealed.  
For he took cover behind a tree, and she was not precise.  
The mage takes off to hover in the air,  
but the shapeshifter transforms into a bat to give chase.  
She flies away, but he follows her to somewhere  
he may make her fight face to face.  
She stops, standing still in the sky, runes around  
her in a circle, a magic spell to be cast.  
He strikes at her, to make her downed  
but she stays up until the time she has left has past.

The dark bat flaps in the sky, scowling. He will have to anticipate more of these warriors disguised as children, and deal with them. All in due time.


	2. Chapter 2

The Dark Lord Amandiltar inducts more into his cult in the following months. Soon, his followers number in the tens of thousands across the world, mostly in Japan. He seeps his power into their minds, ensuring his control over them just as he had done to his armies long ago.  
  
It is September 11th in the year 2005 of the sixth age (which he believes enough time has passed for it to be) when the election for the House of Representatives occurs. He has spread his influence far, and his agents run under the party name of Durbatulûk.  
  
The current Prime Minister has called for a dissolution of the lower house after failing to get a bill passed in the upper house. He has refused to endorse the representatives who voted against his bill in this election, which makes them an easy draw to the Durbatulûk, eager for vengeance against their own party.  
  
The main competing party, the Democratic People’s Party, is where most of the rest of his followers come from. Already wanting change in government to become less inefficient, his promises of absolute efficiency draw them in like flies to a web.  
  
“Preliminary election results are in!” a newscaster says. “Out of the 480 seats available, the Liberal Democratic Party got a large lead of 290 seats. Their rivals the Democratic Party only got 90 seats. The new party Dobatluk-”  
  
“Durbatulûk,” someone whispers.  
  
“Durbatulûk earned 35 seats and ten percent of the popular vote. ‘Where did this new party come from?’ people are wondering. It seems to have appeared just a few months ago, and quickly racqueted up to become the third most popular party in the country. It seems people from various parties are leaving to join them.  
  
“Their ideology so far seems to be a promise to make the government more efficient and make the nation prosperous. While it has yet to be seen, this group may be the next leaders of our country.”  
  
Ah, democracy, so easy to corrupt. His plans are going so well.  
  
  
“Master Amandiltar, your acolyte has been attacked!”  
  
The smith smiles. It has been a few months since the election, and his witches in training have been repeatedly attacked by unknowns. All he has of them are video: two adults of man, a werewolf, and another warrior disguised as a child. All using that strange form of magic.  
  
Now, they have run into his trap. “Thank you. You may leave now.” The shivering man exits and runs away from the building.  
  
The Dark Lord strides to the bait, waiting in a safe house with hired mercenaries outside. He arrives just as the werewolf takes the magic of his acolyte with his magic book.  
  
“Werewolf! What is your name. I would know the one who has been attacking my servants.”  
  
“I am not a werewolf. I am a Guardian Beast! My name is Zafira. We need to do this, but we do not kill.”  
  
“Oh, I am aware. Crippling the opposition so they have to take care of the casualties rather than killing is a standard tactic in war. But it won’t work on me.”  
  
The werewolf seems taken aback. Amandiltar signals, and the bomb he placed right under the werewolf explodes, one body splattering everywhere. His men run into the room and point their machine guns at the spot where the werewolf was standing. They fire, and bullets spray everywhere.  
  
Indigo white chains burst out of the smoke and wrap around several soldiers. They cry out and drop their guns as the chains tighten around them. A few others run–Sauron takes note of these, to punish later–most keep firing into the smoke. Those chains disappear, leaving the disabled soldiers on the ground, and more strike out at the mercenaries. Amandiltar draws his broadsword and breaks several chains.  
  
“Schwalbefliegen!” Several metal balls hit into him from behind. He turns, and flying there is the warrior not-child in red. Not wasting words, he leaps forward and sliced his sword at her. She blocks with the end of her hammer, runic red symbols appearing around it.  
  
He falls back to the earth. She scowls at him. Her device ejects some sort of metal canister, creating several more metal balls and she hits them with her hammer directed at him.  
  
He deflects them with his sword, reflecting them back at her. She dodges.  
  
He leaps into the air,  
his sword sweeps to tear  
her dress which armors her.  
She flies up, much warier.  
He turns and slams on her succour  
which came from the third warrior.  
On and on the three fought.  
The second swings her sword  
while the first her hammer.  
He defends with a ward  
made from his best glamour.  
On and on the three fought,  
blocking, striking, ducking.  
  
All until his reinforcements arrived. Unable to wait near in case of being caught, his acolytes had to take a van to come. Indeed, they have arrived at the perfect moment, for the werewolf has just finished disposing the mercenaries.  
  
Two score men in all, they each carry enchanted swords, shields, and machine guns. They use the former two in this battle, leaving the latter strapped on their back. A dozen go to fight the wolf while the rest aid him.  
  
Four of his acolytes command the winds, and a heavy gust throws the warriors down to the ground, keeping them from flight. The battle shall now stay in reach.  
  
His forces push them back, and away from each other. While his enemies may be trying to fight non-lethally, he and his aren’t under any such compulsion. Alas, it is not enough. It is a stalemate, neither side able to destroy the other. However, his acolytes tire, being merely man. One falls to the ground, no longer using her black magic. The winds begin to fade.  
  
Sauron prepares to use his power to strike the adult down, once and forever. He lifts his hand into the air and–  
  
“Eeeoooeeeoooeeeooo!” The police have arrived. Someone must have noticed the fight and called them. He stops. The world is not yet to know of his true nature.  
  
“We have to go,” the adult says. She holds up a magic shield, blocking his followers from the attack, and the other teleports them out. The werewolf does the same after flying in the air. His acolytes turn to him, and his signals them to stand down. He deftly weaves an illusion to hide their guns, and the mercenaries have long since run off. Cowardly, but useful now.  
  
The police exit their cars and walk to him. “What happened here? Some sort of fight? Why are you all carrying swords?”  
  
“I believe I can explain,” Amandiltar begins, “we were attacked. We are a group of magic practitioners, which uses these ancient tools, when a man attacked our meeting. This man was a user of a different type of magic, though why he tried to kill us I do not know.”  
  
The officer is visibly dubious.  
  
“I believe the end of the fight was caught on camera, if you need proof.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“He started by exploding the floor with some sort of bomb, resulting in one death. Tetsu was a good man.” Amandiltar pauses for effect. “Then we fought back, and were beating him when two other fanatics arrived. An adult and a child girl came to reinforce him and fought us like fanatics. It is truly sad that they would force a little girl into whatever sick cult they have and make her fight.”  
  
If she is going to pretend to be a child for whatever reason, he can easily turn that around. She’s obviously not a real child though; she moves like elves experienced of hundreds of years of battle.  
  
“Well, I’ll need each of you to come in later to get your testimonies. There was a death, so this is serious. And I promise you, the perpetrators will be brought to justice.” Amandiltar thanks the policeman as he goes to some of his acolytes for preliminary interviews, all having heard his cover story.  
  
Within a week, those strange warriors’ faces are plastered everywhere and known as terrorists.  
  
  
“You!” A little girl stops Amandiltar on his way to a black magic teaching session. She wears school clothes, but couldn’t be more than nine. “You were the one who attacked me! I saw you in the news, you blamed someone for a fight.”  
  
Oh. The first fake-child warrior. Amandiltar looks around: no one here. Good, she must have waited for this. He prepares to strike. “Attack you? All I ever did was try to talk to you. _You_ attacked me.”  
  
“I–what? No. You’re–that thing on your chest. You have to take it off.”  
  
A base trick, trying to make him lose his powerful broach.  
  
“I don’t think so. I’m not so foolish as to deprive myself of a weapon.”  
  
“It’s dangerous!”  
  
“So am I. And so are you. Do you wish to fight again?”  
  
“No! I just want to talk.”  
  
“Then talk. If it will take a while, we can meet in private at the building I was already going to. My students will not mind the wait.”  
  
She seems shocked for some reason. “You’re really willing to just talk?”  
  
“Yes, of course. That’s what I wanted in the first place.”  
  
“Why did you frame those mages as terrorists?”  
  
“I didn’t frame them. They attacked me. Are they your friends?”  
  
“Well, no, I don’t know them.” Interesting, either she is an expert lier or there are multiple groups of men pretending to be children.  
  
“Why did you attack me?”  
  
“I didn’t. You attacked me.”  
  
“That’s not what I remember,” Nanoha protests.  
  
“The memory of man is fallible and easily fooled.”  
  
“Raising Heart?”  
  
“Yes, my master?” The red gem in her necklace glows. Either a trapped spirit forced to serve or an AI, he muses. He did some of the former in his time in Dol Guldur.  
  
“Who attacked first, me or him?”  
  
“He tried punched you. You dodged and transformed, my master.”  
  
“Aha!” She points at him triumphantly. Her acting is good. He could almost believe she is actually nine years old.  
  
“I deeply apologize for that. Could you forgive me?”  
  
“Sure! Why did you attack me? Why did you lie about it?”  
  
“As you know, I train my own students in my own magic. Your magic is strange, and it reacted badly with mine, causing me to lash out.” Anyone who knows anything about magic would know that doesn’t make sense. Thus, if she believes it, she is either trying to become a spy or is a nine year old prodigy, learned in the hows but not whys.  
  
“I guess that makes sense.”  
  
“To prevent that from happening, could you teach me your kind of magic? That will avoid this from happening again. And perhaps you can help me track down those terrorists–they brainwashed a girl your age to fight for them.”  
  
She nods in… familiarity? She has experience in nine year old girls being trained to fight against her?  
  
“Yes! But I’ll warn you, it requires lots of equations and heavy math. Without a device to do the calculations it’s pretty hard.”  
  
“I think you’ll be surprised.”  
  
  
“Acolytes. An unexpected development has occurred, so I will not be personally teaching you today. Shinobu Kokei will continue your training today.” He was one of the witches who fought against the strange magic users, and is good enough at magic to teach. Several of the acolytes look curiously at Nanoha, but know better than to say anything.  
  
He takes Nanoha to the other training room. He had bought this building from a dojo, so it has sufficiently large rooms, though he did have to reinforce the walls with magic.  
  
“So, how do you begin?” the smith asks. Whether she is a spy or a naive girl, he’ll get something useful out of it.  
  
“The simplest spell to learn is called Shoot Barret, my own version is called Divine Shooter.” She rattled off some equations and that strange glowing pink ball hovers in the air around her.  
  
Sauron holds his hand up and concentrated his magic there. This magic system, while lacking in elegance compared to Elven magic, is more efficient than even the black magic he invented. It seems to be less varied, but more concentrated effects. A sphere of dark blue forms above his hand.  
  
She seems surprised. “You memorized it all that quickly?” Before he can respond, she gets an annoyed look on her face and looks off to the side. Amandiltar looks but only the blank wall is there. How interesting.  
  
“I have a better memory than most, however constrained I sometimes am.”  
  
“Well, can you control it? Dodge!” Several Divine Shooters shoot out at his Barret, destroying both on contact. “I said to make it dodge!”  
  
“You had not properly started the exercise.” Amandiltar creates another sphere, putting it behind him.  
  
He creates several more and has them intercept her Shooters as they try to hit his target. However, hers are simply too strong, and he has to create several times the amount just to maintain parity. She manages to destroy the target a scant few more times before she suddenly starts walking out.  
  
“I got to go! School and stuff! Bye!”  
  
That’s blatantly a lie. School would have started hours ago. In any case, he still needs her to come back, and detainment won’t work while she can teleport.  
  
“Very well. Do come back, will you? I am most interested in that spell of flight of yours. And perhaps I can teach you some of my kind of magic.”  
  
“Okay!” He wills the door to open as she runs out. ‘Tis best to make her curious by doing something her magic can’t.  
  
One of his acolytes walks into the room. “Milord, I have a representative who wants to speak to you. It’s about your use of magic.”  
  
Ah, yes. Just as expected.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I’ve been fighting an overly dramatic version of myself to the death and it keeps making my thoughts randomly switch to think about a specific person which interrupts cognitive function and therefore making this.

Hayate smiles as her family walked into the room.  
  
“What were you all doing so late?”  
  
“Nothing, mistress,” Signum responds. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”  
  
“Mmmm.” Maybe they’re finally making friends. It’s good that they’re not sticking with her all the time. After all, Shamal was still here, so she wasn’t exactly lonely. She glances over at the TV.  
  
The reporter stands in front of a half destroyed building. “A group of terrorists attacked a local spiritual group in this building.” He gestures to the destroyed building. “Tetsu, a local practitioner, was killed by the bomb. The leader of the local group, Amandiltar, bravely organized the remaining spiritualists to fight the terrorists off. Both side seemed to use, dare I say it, magic.”  
  
Hayate gasps. Signum notices the TV and goes to turn it off. “No! I want to see this,” Hayate stops her.  
  
“Despite the unbelievability, we have the end of the fight on tape, the security camera turning back on just in time. We’ll play it now.”  
  
The screen switches to a somewhat grainy video of a fight. Specks of blood and guts cover the floor, though this doesn’t seem to bother any of the combatants. Everyone involved using melee weapons, swords, shields, and hammers slamming against each other. One side had almost two dozen people. The other…  
  
“Vita? Zafira? Signum? What is this?” Hayate’s voice shakes.  
  
“We had to do it! The book–” Vita starts.  
  
“I said not to kill anyone! Not to harvest for the book! I just wanted for us to be a family!”  
  
The four look look ashamed.  
  
“We’re you in on it too, Shamal?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“We didn’t kill anyone,” Zafira says. “That was a trap for me, they killed their own man themselves.”  
  
Hayate doesn’t miss the implication. “How long have you been doing this?”  
  
“About a month. Your condition has been worsening, the paralysis is spreading up your legs. However, if the Book of Darkness was filled, you would be cured. We had to do this, to repay you for your kindness.”  
  
“No. No killing people, no more harvesting for the book. Just… let me live in peace.”  
  
“Yes, mistress,” the Wolkenritter say in unison. Hayate feels guilty, for a moment. She doesn’t like ordering them around. But if they keep attacking people, she has to.  
  
The TV switches back to the reporter. “The police are tracking down the subjects at this very moment, trying to find out their identities and put a stop to their terrorism.”  
  
“They won’t find us,” Vita scoffs. “We’re safe here.”  
  
“They have video–”  
  
“The three of them won’t go out for a while, until it all calms down,” Shamal suggests.  
  
“Open up! This is the police!” The five of them freeze.  
  
“Hayate, get your belongings. Zafira, help her and get our stuff. Shamal, set up a barrier as soon as Hayate is done.” Signum gestures for Vita to follow her, and walks to the door.  
  
“Don’t kill them!” Hayate orders.  
  
“We won’t!” Vita replies. “Go!”  
  
“Why would the police be coming to our little home? We’ve done nothing!” Signum delays to the policemen.  
  
They knock the door open, pointing guns inside. “Surrender and give up the hostage!”  
  
“What hosta-oh.” Vita scowls. “I’m not a hostage!”  
  
“Poor brainwashed girl,” one of the police mutters.  
  
“I’m not brainwashed!” Vita transforms then runs at them, smashing that one with her hammer, Graf Eisen. Signum also transforms and the two of them quickly knock out the police, their weapons useless. The Book of Darkness floats over one.  
  
“This one has a pretty good Linker Core,” Vita points out. “Should we take it?”  
  
“Hayate said no,” Signum states.  
  
“He’s already knocked out. Hey! Hayate! Can we take the Linker Cores of people already knocked out!”  
  
“What!” Hayate rolls back into the living room. “N-no! I said no taking Linker Cores!”  
  
“But he’s already knocked out. It won’t hurt him and it would help you.”  
  
“Hayate, we just want to help you. We aren’t hurting anyone. And if you die… the book will remain. We could get another evil master.” Shamal looks at Hayate directly.  
  
“… fine. But only if they’re already knocked out.”  
  
“Thank you.” Vita harvests the Linker Core, and then Shamal activates the barrier. The world turns monochrome and the policemen’s disappear.  
  
“Let’s go. We need to get out of their perimeter.” Signum leads them out of the house and west.  
  
“Why don’t we just stay in the barri-oh, right,” Hayate begins before stopping herself. If they stayed other mages would be able to find the barrier, and then them.  
  
Once at the edge of the barrier, Signum nods to Shamal. The barrier goes down.  
  
Several people appear on the street, and gasp. They panic.  
  
“It’s the terrorists! They’ve kidnapped more children!”  
  
“Someone call the police!”  
  
“Run!”  
  
“Stop! No one kidnapped anyone! It’s a misunderstanding!” Hayate yells at them, only to be ignored. Shamal sets up another barrier, and with scarcely a word they head south.  
  
  
“Nanoha, I want a full report of everything he does,” Lindy asks, the screen showing her standing on the bridge of the Arthra.  
  
“Right.” Nanoha nods seriously.  
  
“He likely won’t give up the Jewel Seed on his own,” Chrono muses from besides his mother.  
  
“Nanoha, if you need help, call. I’ll back you up like I did today.” Fate frowns. “I don’t like the sound of this Amandiltar.”  
  
“I think he’s fine. He apologized! Though I think he’s even more excitable about magic than you, Yuuno. It’s hard to take him seriously when he’s blabbering about Shoot Barret*.”  
  
“I’m an archaeologist, not a magic expert. Of course he is more excited about it. I’m more worried about his magic. It feels familiar, somehow, like something I saw on a dig once.”  
  
“Then I’ll just have to find out more about him.”  
  
“I’m only having you do this because you wanted to,” Lindy says, “if you feel threatened by him you can stop giving him those lessons. In fact, I’m not sure we should be allowing him to know anything at all.”  
  
“I won’t let anyone down,” Nanoha promises.  
  
  
Aurora Abbry forced a smile on her face as yet another _child_ walks up to her. Wearing her formal robes might not have been such a good idea. People have been telling her it’s not Halloween all day. Just take the stupid flyers people!  
  
“Oh my god, what is it that you’re wearing Aurora? You haven’t joined some freaky cult have you?” Ah, Emma. The popular girl in her school. She always thought she was friends with everyone. The worst part is that she actually is nice.  
  
“Not exactly, Emma. The Durbatulûk are a new political party-”  
  
“Heh, cult, political party, same thing.”  
  
Aurora forces herself to laugh.  
  
“Well, why did you decide to join some stupid third party anyways? Everyone knows they don’t matter.”  
  
“This one will. We’re actually an international party, intent on securing unity for the world! No longer shall wars break out between countries for petty reasons!” Aurora’s voice steadily grows louder.  
  
“A bit too intense there, ‘Ra. Like, _really_ intense for you. That sounds kinda… um… world conquer-y. And wouldn’t ever work.”  
  
“Only a little. Besides, we have something special going for us.” Her mentor Tetsu may have died for the cause, but she won’t let him down! Aurora flexes her left hand and focuses. A flame appears above it.  
  
“Wow! Cool! How’d you do that? Are you some sort of magician party?”  
  
“Not magician. I’m the local leader of the Witches of Durbatulûk in America. We use actual magic.”  
  
“Stop joking around. Magic isn’t real. Where’s your magic wand anyways?”  
  
“We don’t need magic wands, this isn’t Harry Potter,” Aurora says, annoyed. “It is real. I have nothing up my sleeves but honest magic.” As honest as black magic can be, anyways. Honestly, who decided for _that_ to be the name? It’s like begging to be called evil. Which they definitely aren’t, even if they’re trying to take over the world.  
  
“Well, been nice talking to you. Wish you luck!” Emma takes a flyer gracefully and starts walking away. Aurora scoffs.  
  
“Don’t wish me luck if you don’t mean it, _Graham_. Just remember this when we are on top. Remember your choice not to join the winning team.” Aurora pauses as Emma stops walking. “Or… come to the meet on Saturday. Open your eyes to the truth.”  
  
“The truth?”  
  
“The truth of this world. Ancient history brought back into the light from the darkness.”  
  
“Hmph.” She walks away. She’ll be there, Aurora thinks. She is too curious to not be, if only to see magic.  
  
  
Aurora stands in front of the gathered audience for her speech. They had rented a large auditorium for this, and it is filled with over a hundred people. Her best witch, Tom, stands next to her. Her other six witches stand behind them in a semicircle, all in their formal robes.  
  
“Many of you may of heard of the Red Book of Westmarch. You thought it was fantasy. What’s that? You haven’t heard of it? I believe you know it by another name. The Lord of the Rings series. Yes, I can hear you going home now, what you will say. ‘I didn’t know this was a Tolkien convention!’  
  
“Well it’s not. In truth, the book was found, and translated. The already biased book became more, until it was quite different from the truth.” Aurora gestures, and in the empty space in front of her a young Tolkien appears in front of a table. The table has a red book on it. The illusionary writer opens it, and begins reading.  
  
“Today we will tell you the truth of the past. The truth of ancient history, so many years ago. Long ago, billions of years ago, there was nothing but Eru, he who is alone. He created the Maiar, other transcendent beings, who would exist within his timeless halls with him. Then, he began to sing. The other Maiar began to sing in harmony, and together they created a vision of the world.” The illusion shifts to look like the universe: galaxies everywhere.  
  
“The Maiar desired that it existed, and Eru put his Flame Imperishable, the power of creation, into the void, and Eä, the universe, came into being. The Maiar began to enter the universe and became Ainur. The universe was empty, but it existed. Arda, our world, was made.  
  
“But not all agreed with the song. The strongest of the Maiar, Melkor, sought to make his own song. He sang differently than the rest, and many went to his banner. Angered, Eru declared his song to be for naught, an cursed Melkor to be forever doomed. He went to Arda with his loyal allies and began anew.  
  
“The other Maiar were jealous of his power, and the Valar, greatest among them, repeatedly attacked him. During this time, thirteen thousand years ago, Mairon, his great lieutenant, joined him in seeking to protect the human race. For the Maiar and their pet Elves hated people, and the humans at that time had nothing.” The illusions switch to battles of giants, destroying and rearranging the landscape.  
  
“Eventually they lost, and were lost to time. But before this, the Maiar and their Elves fled Arda, staying in Valinor which is now another dimension, and it was the few remaining elves who were masters over the human race who destroyed Mairon.” Images of wicked Elves stabbing Mairon appear, with humans cowering in the background.  
  
“But now, none hold away over us anymore! The cruel Valar would wish for mankind to remain divided, warring amongst ourselves. But now there is a better way! We, the Durbatulûk, are banding together to unite humanity. We have powers beyond belief! Magic, which you see before you now, creating these illusions. It is powerful beyond all else.” Aurora brings her power to the forefront, focusing it on fear, and some of the audience shriek. She stops.  
  
“We are the masters of Arda! Join us for the unity of Earth! Join us for power! Join Durbatulûk for humanity!”  
  
“Oh my god, this is a cult,” Emma blurts out from the front row. Everyone looks at her.  
  
“Yeah, I’m leaving,” some other guy says. He stands up and walks toward the door, followed by a few others. She can tell if this continues he will be followed out by many more.  
  
“Don’t leave when we just started!” Aurora blurts out. Darn, that ruined her image. Think fast Aurora! “You have yet to see all. While it is true that we may appear to be a cult, I assure you we are not. You are not required to give up anything you own, for we do not wish to exploit you. You are not required to worship anything or anyone. You just need to know the truth. Stay, just ‘till the end of this meeting, at least. You shan't regret it.”  
  
The man looks disdainfully over his shoulder and walks out. Most of the crowd follows his lead, leaving the room while murmuring to each other: “weird cult”, “this was stupid”, “thought this was a political rally”.  
  
Strangely enough, she notices, Emma is one of the few people who has stayed. Aurora smirks; that she stayed means she’s practically already inducted. With Miss. Graham on their side, recruiting more students from their college will be a pinch.  
  
*The simplest Nanohaverse spell. Literally just a ball of light that does almost no damage.


End file.
